


i can make it on my own (but making it alone is lonely)

by Pallet_and_Cerulean



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pallet_and_Cerulean/pseuds/Pallet_and_Cerulean
Summary: “After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, Adora tucked in the edge of the bandage, satisfied with her work. Though, she didn’t lean back right away. Instead, her touch lingered against Catra’s neck, gaze skirting up to catch brilliant blue and yellow eyes. Sucking in a breath, Catra tried to sort out the rush of adrenaline and nerves that hit her all at once. Pupils blown wide, stomach turning over, she dared to meet Adora’s gaze. The way her pretty blue irises shimmered and spun in the low light made Catra dizzy. And the flood of emotions she didn’t understand was too much.“orWhen Catra gets hurt in training, Adora insists on patching her up. And Catra is just a little too in love.





	i can make it on my own (but making it alone is lonely)

It started when they were younger, maybe twelve or thirteen, and ever since then, things felt different. For all the time before then, they were just friends. They were still just friends, only friends, but Catra knew something had changed all those years ago, because something inside her started to short circuit when Adora got too close. But now she was older, and everything had gotten worse. She could hardly stand to be in the same space as Adora without having to stamp down the strange feelings that surged up. It was becoming a real problem, and a real distraction that Catra couldn’t afford to deal with. 

————

Sparring had always been a strong suit of Catra’s. She was quicker on her feet than any of the other cadets in her squadron, cat’s reflexes and all, and had the strength to overpower almost any of them without too much trouble. Adora was a pain to deal with, but whatever. She wasn’t fighting Adora today, or at least not exclusively anyway. The whole group had been tossed in the ring and told to fight it out until there was only one of them left standing, and that suited Catra just fine. 

Kyle was out almost laughably early, as per usual. He made a move to take on Adora, a horrible decision, really, for someone of his skill set, and she cornered him in no time. A few cracks of clashing staffs echoed out in the air before the telltale buzz of a hit chest plate signaled he was finished. Shaking her head with a quiet snicker, Catra leapt up into the rafters, climbing her way over the makeshift battlefield. From what she could see, Adora was making her way towards the back, where Lonnie and Rogelio were crouched behind two separate barriers, waiting. Creeping silently overhead, Catra flexed her claws eagerly, tightening her grip on the metal biting into her hands and feet. 

Before Lonnie could even blink, Catra was on her. She dropped down from the rafters with a single leap, landing on all fours mere inches from Lonnie’s back. A growl building in her throat, Catra threw herself onto her opponent. Though, in a flash, Rogelio was tearing her off, grabbing her by the back of her shirt collar. 

“We’ve got you now, Catra,” Lonnie goaded, grabbing for the staff Catra had knocked from her hands. 

Catra hissed and snarled, wriggling free of Rogelio’s grasp. She darted away, but Lonnie was hot on her heels, catching her ankle with a quick strike of her staff. Catra stumbled to the ground, the impact knocking the air from her lungs in a way that forced dark panic to seize her chest for just a beat. She hated feeling like she couldn’t breathe. It was claustrophobic, oppressive, and terrifying. But as soon as she could choke in a breath, Catra was back to herself again, on her feet in a flash, turning to face the two cadets she could hear clamoring after her. 

Lonnie lunged again with a well aimed strike, this time with her staff leveled right at Catra’s chest plate, but she wasn’t fast enough. Catra ducked beneath the swing, feeling the breeze it stirred ruffling her hair. With a taunting grin, razor canines exposed, Catra back-stepped past another viscous swing, then dodged the next with ease. 

“Aww, cute,” Catra chuckled, the sound rumbling low and raspy in her throat. “You’re going to have to be a lot faster than that if you want to hit me,” Catra taunted simperingly, her voice dropping into that smooth, teasing tone she’d perfected over the years. Adora always fell for it. But Lonnie only grinned, just as tricky and mischievous as any Cheshire cat smile Catra had ever worn. 

“You should spend less time talking to me and more time worrying about yourself,” Lonnie shot back, lunging for Catra with even more force than before. Catra would have laughed at the sentiment, mocked it, if she had the time, but Lonnie redoubled her efforts and came after her with a newfound fury. Dodging back, just out of reach of the crackling red staff, Catra only realized her mistake when it was too late. The whole time, Rogelio had been lingering behind her in the shadows, counting on Lonnie to hold her attention. And when she dove away from Lonnie’s attack, into Rogelio’s reach, he was there waiting. 

The massive lizard slashed at her, a sharp blow aimed right for her chest. Adrenaline surging in her veins, pupils narrowing to slits, Catra leaned into her reflexes, hoping they were enough. As quickly as she could, she dropped to all fours, trying to duck the nasty strike. But she wasn’t fast enough; Rogelio’s claws missed her chest plate, caught on her throat instead. In an instant, pain throbbed in the gashes, and Catra fought the urge to gag at the sensation. She could tell the cuts weren’t deep, not deep enough to do any real damage at least, but it still rattled her.

Catra scrambled away, a hand flying to her own staff with a defensive instinct while the other came to her throat. The raw flesh stung worse under her touch, and she bit back the pathetic whimper on her tongue. When she pulled her hand away, it was sticky with blood, stained crimson. Furious now, and if she had to admit it, a little anxious, Catra hissed and lashed her tail behind her, slitted eyes darting between Rogelio and Lonnie as they closed in on her. The pain made her a little shaky and Catra hated the way her hands trembled. It was weak, pathetic.

Then, in a flash of blonde hair, Adora rushed in from the side, planting herself right between them and Catra. “Adora?” Catra questioned, a little stunned. But nonetheless, she kept a tight grip on her staff, ready to fight back in case Adora decided to turn on her too. 

“Catra, you’re hurt. Stay back and leave them to me, okay?” Adora replied, level headed like always, and flashed Catra a grin over her shoulder. 

Despite the anger that raged in her stomach, the desire to lunge at Adora and prove to the stubborn girl once and for all that Catra could take care of herself, something warm and pleasant bloomed in her chest. It was a strange feeling, one Catra had, over the years, linked inexplicably to Adora, and it stubbornly lodged itself right into her heart. Though, the blood that trickled down her throat and over her chest, hot and sticky and reeking of copper, dampened the emotion. And that was for the better, if you asked Catra.

Before Catra could clear her head and get herself back in the fight, Lonnie already had a satisfying red X flashing on her chest plate and an equally entertaining scowl on her face. Adora swiftly moved on to dealing with Rogelio, narrowly dodging his powerful swings with sharp footwork of her own. Everything in her burning and aching for revenge, Catra tightened her grip on her staff and threw herself into the fight. With her and Adora working together, it was only a heartbeat before they had Rogelio pinned. Adora jumped at him, locking their weapons together in a flash of crimson sparks. And in that instant, Catra took her chance, thrusting a fierce jab right into the lizard’s chest. 

He stumbled back and was out of the fight in no time. And that just left Catra and Adora. Gritting her teeth, trying to block out the steadily throbbing pain that ripped across her throat, Catra leveled her gaze at Adora. And to her surprise, the other girl threw her staff down to the ground, holding her hands out in surrender. Chewing the inside of her lip, Catra tilted her head, unsure of what to make of that. 

“I yield; I won’t fight you when you’re bleeding like that,” Adora said, righteous and assured. And when Catra tentatively walked up to her, tapped her in the chest with the blunt end of her staff so an X lit up, she didn’t move an inch. Catra had been skeptical it was some kind of trick, the same kind that she would use to play dirty, but Adora wasn’t like her. 

A few teasing comments stuck in the back of Catra’s throat, but something about Adora’s fiercely determined gaze kept them lodged there instead of slipping out in a sharp tongued quip. And as soon as the match was over, Adora snatched Catra’s wrist in her hand. ”Come on,” Adora said, dragging her out of the training hall, “we need to clean up those scratches.”

Ever since they were young, Adora had been the more diligent one about making sure injuries were properly taken care of. Catra took more of the attitude that everything would heal on its own and turn out fine. But, Adora took the Horde’s word as law, and when they went over the importance of physical health and absolute strength, Adora had probably taken it a bit further than she needed too. So even when Catra just skinned a knee or rolled an ankle, Adora always dragged her back to the barracks to clean or wrap the injury. It was actually kind of sweet, but still a serious annoyance. 

“Adora, I’m fine,” Catra whined as they weaved through the deserted halls, leaving the rest of their squad behind. When Adora didn’t loosen her grip or do so much as cast a glance back over her shoulder, Catra tried to tug her wrist free. With little success. “Seriously, you’re overreacting! It’s just a little scratch,” Catra added with a roll of her eyes. 

Finally, that caught Adora’s attention. She stopped on a dime, Catra nearly stumbling into her back, and spun on her heels. All intense blue eyes and a stubbornly set frown, Adora leveled a hard stare at Catra. “What would you have done if he hit something important? Your throat isn’t something to mess around with; you could have bled out and died,” Adora said firmly, something high and shaky creeping into her tone as she spoke. “Lonnie and Rogelio shouldn’t have ganged up on you like that, but you should have been more careful too. I don’t know what I’d do if you got seriously hurt,” Adora worried, her free hand curling to a fist at her side. 

“Hey, take a breath, okay?” Catra said, hearing the anxiety creep into Adora’s tone. “It’s not like I’m going to get myself killed in battle training or anything. You really worry too much; I’m fine,” she assured, leaving out the fact that the gashes really did hurt worse than Catra thought they would. Adora was already worried enough without knowing that. And the subtle tremble of her hand against Catra’s wrist, the fear shimmering in her liquid blue irises, made something in Catra’s heart twist. It was painful, suffocating, and she didn’t want to feel like that anymore, didn’t want Adora to have to feel like that anymore. 

Adora’s expression softened some, the hard slant of her brows smoothing out. And the frown on her lips ghosted into a tentative smile. She shook her head a little, but didn’t look so intensely concerned anymore. “Whatever you say, you aren’t getting out of this,” Adora said, more lightly, and started back towards the barracks without giving Catra a chance to object. 

“Fine, fine,” Catra huffed, letting Adora pull her along. 

While Adora was running off to go grab a first aid kit from who knows where, Catra sat down on their shared bunk. Technically, it was Adora’s, with Catra’s being the one right above it. Though, it was no secret that Adora’s bunk was Catra’s bunk too, and it had been for a long, long time. Tentatively running her fingertips over her throat, Catra took stock of the nasty cuts. There were three diagonal slashes, raw and painful and already a little swollen. The bleeding seemed to be slowing down though, which Catra was silently relieved about. 

It didn’t take long for Adora to make her way back, a pathetic little medical kit in hand. Briefly, Catra wondered if they could even fit a roll of bandages in that sad excuse for a first aid kit, but the worried glimmer in Adora’s eyes shut the thought down. It didn’t really matter, as long as it made Adora feel better. After all, it wasn’t like the gashes were actually all that serious in the bigger picture. Sure, they hurt like hell, but she certainly wasn’t going to bleed out or anything. At least Rogelio had been courteous enough to miss her jugular. 

Setting to work dumping out the contents of the little white case, Adora sorted through them until she pulled out a crumpled roll of bandages, some gauze, and what Catra assumed was some sort of disinfect. Whatever it was, it reeked like chemical cleaner, sterile and so strong it stung in her lungs when she took a breath. With a leery eye, Catra watched as Adora poured some of the bluish liquid onto a gauze pad and promptly knelt down in front of her. 

Something in Catra’s stomach clenched when Adora’s free hand landed high on her thigh. She leaned in close, gaze thoughtful and appraising, and Catra could actually pick out her scent beneath the repulsive disinfectant. It was warm and familiar and did something funny to her heart, made it thump a little harder in her chest. Or at least it did until Adora pressed the soaked gauze to her throat. 

Catra heard her claws ripping through the sheets before she even realized what she’d done. She’d been prepared for it to hurt a little, but it stung like fire, burning until tears came to her eyes. A choked noise somewhere between a snarl and a whimper stuck in Catra’s throat, and she dug her claws deeper into the crappy cot mattress. If it wasn’t Adora, she’d be lashing out, spitting fire and rage, tearing into whatever she could get her claws on, because hurt was easier to deal with when she let it boil over, turn to unbridled fury. Then she could vent it all out until she was numb inside, with nothing left to rub salt in her wounds. But it was Adora, so Catra bitterly swallowed down the urge and tried to blink back the tears. 

As soon as Adora was done cleaning out the cuts and wiping the worst of the blood up from Catra’s throat, she tossed the stained gauze to the floor, something mild and apologetic in her expression. Eyes crinkled just slightly with something that looked suspiciously similar to guilt, Adora gave a ginger smile. “Sorry, I’m done now,” she said, quiet. A few strands of hair spilled from her ponytail, falling over her downcast eyes as she searched out the bandages. Catra caught herself staring, pulse picking up just a little. 

“I’m starting to think you always insist on doing this just so you have a chance to get under my skin,” Catra joked half heartedly, feeling a little frazzled. She didn’t know if it was the pain or blood loss or what, but her nerves were all jumpy, and she felt too hot under Adora’s gaze. 

“You know I don’t like hurting you,” Adora countered seriously, and Catra didn’t have a comeback. Adora’s brows furrowed slightly as she held the bandages to Catra’s neck, and Catra couldn’t figure out whether it was with concern or concentration. She hoped it was the latter. 

Though, once she started winding the bandages gingerly around Catra’s neck, settling into a steady rhythm, her expression softened into something a little kinder. Gentle brushes of Adora’s fingertips against her skin sent Catra’s pulse racing, and her intense focus brought her face closer and closer to Catra’s. It all felt intimate, personal, intense. And Catra didn’t know what to do with any of that. 

After what felt like both an eternity and an instant, Adora tucked in the edge of the bandage, satisfied with her work. Though, she didn’t lean back right away. Instead, her touch lingered against Catra’s neck, gaze skirting up to catch brilliant blue and yellow eyes. Sucking in a breath, Catra tried to sort out the rush of adrenaline and nerves that hit her all at once. Pupils blown wide, stomach turning over, she dared to meet Adora’s gaze. The way her pretty blue irises shimmered and spun in the low light made Catra dizzy. And the flood of emotions she didn’t understand was too much. 

Without even realizing the words were coming out of her mouth, Catra panicked. “What are you doing to me?” she yelped, jumping back, tumbling over the edge of the bunk, and clutching desperately at her chest. The way her heart raced and pounded, too fast, too much, scared her a little. And the way her chest was going tight, fluttering and aching with something she didn’t recognize, made it hard to breathe. Why did she feel so nervous, so shaky and tense? It didn’t make any sense. It had to be something Adora was doing. It was always Adora. 

“Catra?” Adora asked worriedly, stumbling up off her knees and to her feet. She hurried to step around the bunk, finding Catra sprawled on her back on the other side, still clutching at the fabric over her heart. “What’s gotten into you?”

“It’s you! You’re in my head!” Catra insisted, hardly letting Adora get the words out first. Hurriedly, she sat up and propped herself against the wall, keeping a good distance from Adora. She shot a suspicious glance at the tall blonde, eyes narrowed. 

“What are you talking about?” Adora raised a brow, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Seriously, I feel like I’m going to have a heart attack whenever you’re around. It’s not super convenient,” Catra leveled, just the hint of a growl slipping into her tone. Heat roiled in her lungs, some fiery emotion she couldn’t place burning in her heart, spilling threads of molten amber to pool low in the pit of her stomach. It made her restless, itching to run, but whether it was toward or from something she wasn’t sure. 

The look Adora gave her in return was swimming with all sorts of shades, easy to read as per usual. Concern, confusion, and just the twinge of something smoldering beneath the surface. “I don’t- I don’t understand,” she replied, seemingly at a loss. She was frozen where she stood, unsure of what to do, where to go. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” Catra growled, pushing herself to her feet. Still, for a beat, she hung back against the wall, appreciating the support. Her heart still felt too jumpy, pounding against her ribs. “You’re not the one who has to deal with all of this while still trying to keep up in training,” she said lowly, bitter. 

“That’s not fair,” Adora countered, tipping her chin up in stubborn defiance, like a kid throwing a tantrum. 

Those words snapped something inside of Catra. They set the fire ablaze, burning bright and hot. “Fair? You want to talk about fair?” she questioned incredulously. Breaths coming faster now, she paced towards Adora, glaring blazing heat at the girl. ”What’s not fair around here is that you’re the perfect little soldier and no one gives a shit that I’m killing myself to keep up. It’s not fair that I’ll always be your second place. It’s not fair that you get to make me feel things I don’t want to feel,” Catra seethed. She kept advancing on Adora until the blonde had her back to the wall. “You’re the one who isn’t playing fair here, Adora,” she said, voice dropping low and dangerous. 

For a long moment, no one said anything. Tension sparked between them, smoldering and crackling. Then, Adora did something Catra would have never, ever guessed. Adora kissed her. It was clumsy and sloppy and Catra knew Adora was just as clueless as she was. And yet, it had every nerve in Catra’s body thrumming with heat and energy. The fire that swept across her skin was electrifying and it stole the breath from her lungs. Everything was consumed by Adora. Pretty blue eyes and messy blonde hair before Catra closed her eyes, her unique, comforting scent after. She sincerely wished, from the bottom of her heart, that she could have convinced herself she hated it. She was a soldier; this was against her nature. It was wrong. But it killed her to admit, even just to herself, that she loved every second. 

Though, after the adrenaline drunk haze cleared a little, Catra came back to her senses. With a huff, she pushed away from Adora, arms crossed stubbornly over her chest. Though, she could feel the flush creeping over her face, the way her breaths came faster, harder. Gingerly, shakily, she wiped her lips with the back of her hand. 

Spinning on her heels, mind reeling, Catra paced to the entryway. Her knuckles turned white when she clenched a hand around the door frame, claws digging in. “Never do that again,” Catra insisted, careful to keep her voice perfectly flat and even, uncaring. Without looking back, she stepped out of the barracks. Though, it was tough to ignore the way her stomach fluttered and her heart beat too fast. 

Adora was a distraction. She was too much, and Catra couldn’t handle her any more. So, as much as she wanted to feel Adora’s lips against hers again, to drown in her scent and see the way her striking eyes lit up, she had to push it down. Even if it felt like her heart was splintering to pieces when she walked out of that room, it was for the best. Because that feeling, that temptation, that distraction, was nothing but weakness. And Catra wasn’t weak. She had everything to prove, and with Adora in the way, she would never be anything but second best. A failure so close to victory she could taste it.

It wasn’t fair. Life was cruel and heavy handed with Catra’s dose of bad luck, but she had the spirit to come back swinging with a vengeance. And something about Adora made her want to quit, to retreat somewhere safe and comfortable. But those days were done now. Catra was finished feeling things for Adora. She had to be.


End file.
